


You Cannot Trust a Liar

by Sheselectric



Series: They Won't Get Past the Gate [1]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Dubious Consent, F/M, Smut, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 00:29:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20000995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheselectric/pseuds/Sheselectric
Summary: John wants to get a confession. Deputy wants to get the hell out of the bunker. It seems that to escape, she needs to work with their shared sin.





	You Cannot Trust a Liar

**Author's Note:**

> Edited as of April, 2020 (some stylistic changes).

Rook watches him push Hudson out of the room and as soon as he disappears from her view, she’s aggressively dragging the chair forward. It makes a whole lotta noise, but she doesn’t care. She’s almost by his table, praying -- _how fucking ironic_ \-- that she’ll find something to free herself when he enters the room. He smiles widely as if he expected to find himself in this exact situation. Power over the helpless -- John Seed thrives on this shit.

“Deputy,” he says softly, “you didn’t think I’d leave you alone for too long, did you?”

He slowly approaches the chair and leans down.

“Fuck you,” she spats and he laughs merrily.

“Little Miss Wrath,” he says as his hands close over the chair’s arms and he’s pushing her back to the original spot. He straightens himself with a smile and she wishes she could kick his teeth in.

“Now,” John says as he turns around and walks slowly to his table, “where were we?” He reaches for the knife. “Ah, that’s right. Confession”.

He twirls it in his hands with a gentle smile.

That slay motherfucker.

He’s clearly enjoying it. No fucking surprise -- he seemed almost ecstatic when she was struggling to breathe as he _cleansed_ her.

“Now that our dear Deputy Hudson is gone, you _will_ confess”. He’s slowly walking over to her. “You’ll tell me _all_ of your sins,” he’s standing over her now. “Every last one,” he’s sliding the tip of the knife down her chest.

She trembles despite herself and John smiles wickedly. She doesn’t know whether he’s overjoyed because he thinks she’s scared or because he thinks that she’s aroused by his little knife-play.

Rook doesn’t know either. It’s fucking weird.

Against her better judgment, she looks up to his eyes. They’re anything but warm.

She smiles.

“Eat shit,” she says, and John calmly backs off.

Maybe she truly is the epitome of wrath.

He brings his hands together as for the prayer. “You know Deputy, for the longest time I believed you were mute”. Suddenly, his left-hand jolts forward and closes around her jaw. “Now I just wish you were”.

Rook struggles under his grasp, but he doesn’t let go. He squeezes her so hard she has to bite her tongue not to wince.

John bends over, his face mere inches away from hers.

“You _will_ confess, and you _will_ say _yes_ ,” he sounds weirdly seductive and suddenly she’s lost.

He truly is fucking psychotic.

John loosens his grip, but his hand remains on her jaw. She can feel the tip of the knife back on her chest as he lowers his gaze down and it stays there for a few seconds too long.

Rook suspected that before, but now she’s sure. John _does_ want to fuck her. She thought Sharky was taking a piss, but he must’ve seen it sooner than she did. And even if it's one of the most fucked up things she will ever have to do, she knows that she must make sure John _believes_ he has her.

“Hey,” she whispers, and he looks up at her.

She doesn’t say anything, so he levels his face with hers. He smiles again.

“You’re ready to confess?” he asks, but instead of answering, Rook moves forward and nudges his beard with her nose.

John seems dumbfounded for a second before he takes a step back. He starts to laugh. “My, my, my,” he says, his eyes never leaving Rook’s.“Is this your sin, Deputy?”

She gives him a small smile. She’s unsure whether he buys it or if he’s just playing with her -- wouldn’t put it past that fucker.

“Lust,” he says as he closes in on her again. His lips are inches away from hers. “The entire time I thought it was wrath, but maybe…”

She really doesn’t have time for his bullshit. She lunges forward, her lips landing on his half-sentence. She quickly closes on his lower lip, her tongue sliding down when he steps back.

His eyes are all over her before focusing on her mouth. For a second, she's genuinely scared he'll kill her, but he puts the knife down instead and grabs her face in his hands. His kiss is intense and wet, his tongue opening her mouth before she can grasp for air.

Rook should be fucking disgusted, but she isn’t. She’s excited. She’s _aroused_. John fucking Seed out of all people.

She whimpers as he slides one hand down and grabs her waist. His beard is rubbing of her chin and it sends jolts of electricity right down to her cunt.

He stops as suddenly as he started, looking into her eyes, and she knows what he wants to find. Thank God for her dumb fucking body genuinely reacting to John, because he’s not stupid and he’d see right through her little con if she wasn’t so aroused.

He smiles.

“We’ll atone for this together,” he says before lunging on her neck.

She moans as his tongue laps on the sweaty, hot skin. His hand closes on one of her breasts that he squeezes hard enough to wince, and Rook almost forgets what the point of this whole fucking thing is.

Then she comes back to her sense. He has to uncuff her -- she just needs to nudge him into the right…

John is back on her lips, the kiss leaving her legs trembling. His hand travels to her thigh and he massages it before pinching on the skin. She whimpers in his mouth and he’s closer to her now, his body pressing into her own.

Rook is too wet for her own good.

“John,” she breathes in his ear as he’s licking the crock of her neck. “Uncuff me".

She can’t know how he’ll react, but his hazy eyes tell her she’ll succeed. Indeed, he stops seconds later and reaches for the knife. He’s turning it in his hand as if teasing her, but before she can push him some more, he frees her hands faster than she can blink.

 _Holy shit_.

Carving "sloth "on his chest was perhaps the stupidest fucking thing John’s ever done. It should have been "lust _"_ with the way he seems to have completely turned off his better judgment.

Still, it’s only a partial success –- her legs are still cuffed. It doesn’t matter now as John starts hungrily kissing her again. Her hands tangle in his hair and she pulls on them hard enough to make him grunt. That fucker deserves that. It seems though that John enjoys the roughness as he bites on her lip and she groans. 

Her hands travel down his arms and chest, clumsily unbuttoning his vest. She doesn’t even know why she’s trying to undress him if she’ll be out of here the second he frees her legs. She’s too aroused to think clearly.

John’s hands are on her thighs, stroking her, and when the palm of his hand lands on her cunt she moans buckling in the seat. He smiles and slides it up, traveling under her T-shirt.

What did Sharky say exactly? _You two should just fuck and get it over with_? Perhaps they should. Fuck it. They really should. She should fuck him and then kick his face in. At least she’d have it out of her system.

That thought dies and her normal reasoning kicks in as John reaches for the knife to free her legs. He barely manages to stand back up when she kicks him in the stomach. Hard. He stumbles back and Rook is out of the chair, making her way to the door.

She stumbles as blood only starts to circulate her legs again and before she can reach the exit, he roughly grabs her arm. Next thing she knows, he’s throwing her on the wall. Her head hits it with enough impact for her vision to blur. John’s the angriest she's ever seen him as he approaches her fast, his usual decorum lost.

“Tsk, tsk Deputy,” he says and grabs her throat. “Here I thought we had an understanding”.

And because Rook is a hot-headed idiot with no self-preservation instincts, she spits in his face in response. Breath dies down in her lungs as she watches John, who seems awfully calm for what she’s just done. _Too_ calm.

He slowly lifts his free hand to his face and wipes the spit away. He smiles.

“Wrath,” he says almost with pity.

Suddenly, there’s a flash of something crazy in his eyes and his grip on her throat tightens. It hurts like a bitch and Rook frantically reaches out to swat his arm away, but he uses his free hand to catch her wrist. She gasps for air and kicks him in the last attempt at freeing herself.

John stumbles momentarily before regaining his composure. His grip loosens for just a second, making her gasp for air which burns her throat, but then his body is on hers. She’s trapped.

_Fuck._

He looks in her eyes.

“You can bathe in your _sin_ ,” he says as his grip tightens again. “You can _choke_ on it”.

This time he makes sure she can’t move. Her eyes start to tear-up from the lack of air and John watches it with sick enjoyment. She makes one last attempt at inhaling, realizing that it might be over for her when he lets go of her throat. She breathes all too quickly, her head spinning as she tries to regain her composure.

But before she can breathe in again, he kisses her, his hands traveling to the back of her neck. This whole situation made him hard and Rook starts to wonder about just how sadistic John _really_ is.

He licks her lip and his hips buckle into hers, eliciting a small jolt of pleasure, which makes her doubt her own sanity. Luckily, her anger is stronger than whatever physical reaction she may have to him and her hands jolt to his throat without a warning. And even though she’s not nearly as strong as John, she can feel him gasp for air.

She bathes in the feeling, the adrenaline aiding her efforts until she realizes that he doesn’t even attempt to remove her hands.

“How powerful the wrath can be,” he rasps and lifts his hand to stroke her cheek.

It's a sign of whatever twisted affection he has for her, but his touch burns, fueling her anger.

Rook tightens her grip in response and John smiles as his eyes lock on hers. And then, without warning, and against all logic, his hand slides down her body and palms her through the fabric of her trousers.

She gasps and searches his eyes, not quite believing the nerve on him. But as he keeps watching her, his hand moving more deliberately, she cannot deny the heavy need that pools in her groins. 

Fucking John Seed and his games.

Her wrath is being replaced with lust and her grip loosens and loosens until it’s all gone, and she crushes her lips on his.

Rook hates herself for it -- she really does -- but there's no denying that this fucked-up attraction is affecting everything she came to do in the Hope County. She tells herself that maybe it's better to get it over with. To not have it cloud her judgment. 

She pulls on his shirt as his hands travel to her ass and squeeze it hard. She gasps and pulls his face to her neck to which he obliges with a satisfied smile, his mouth leaving a wet trail on her skin.

She’s so fucking wet her panties become uncomfortable and she reaches for the button of his trousers.

 _Get it over with_.

John catches her hands.

She feels her anger building up again, wondering whether all of this is part of a game that John likes to play. Whether he doesn't want to go through with it because he knows she wants it.

But before she can say anything, he gets down on his knees and unbuttons her trousers. She tries to not let her surprise show, but she can see the acknowledgment in his eyes as he slides the trousers and panties down her legs.

Rook’s filthy and sweaty yet John closes his mouth on her and starts eating her out as if his fucking salvation depends on that. Her body trembles as his tongue flips just right on her clit and she moans before grabbing his hair instinctively. 

Her hips start moving with the rhythm he’s set and John grabs her hips to push her harder into the wall.

For a brief moment, she wonders what would the Peggies say if they saw their Baptist eating out the biggest sinner of them all. It puts a blissful smile on her face that's wiped away as he bites the inside of her thigh before standing up.

She watches John looking as elegant as ever even though he’s dripping with her and it makes her desire spike. 

This time he allows her to unbutton his trousers and, for whatever reason, she expects he’ll just turn her around and fuck her from the back. But he doesn’t. He lifts her and as her legs wrap around his hips, he slams into her aggressively.

She gasps in surprise, but soon gets adjusted to him, enjoying how heat spreads down her thighs. 

But as John picks up a rhythm, she starts to realize what's behind his actions. He fills her to the brim with each thrust -- a deadly mix of pain and pleasure that makes her tremble -- and she knows it's not just how he likes to have sex. Not with the way he watches her face.

This is a _punishment --_ a way to uncover her sins and make her atone.

Whatever she wanted to believe before, it’s clear as the fucking day that John always has an ulterior motive. And as she fully understands that, the wrath overcomes her and pushes her to slap him in the face.

It’ll be a cold fucking day in hell before she gives into John Seed.

He smiles as his hand tangles in her hair, and he pulls her face closer to his.

“ _Yes_ , Deputy,” he whispers hoarsely in her ear, and his voice makes her cunt clench. “This is as much your sin as it is mine”.

 _The hell it is,_ she wants to say, but he kisses her, and for a moment her anger is subdued -- replaced with an overwhelming pleasure as he keeps on thrusting into her.

“Let me give it to you,” he whispers in her mouth, his eyes searching hers. “Let me give it to you and we’ll atone togethe _r_ ”.

And there it is again -- the anger, hot and heavy as she pushes on his chest and he slides out with a grunt.

Rook finds her footing and looks at him.

She doesn’t even know what she wants to achieve anymore, but _receiving_ it from John is not that. But as she watches his smirk -- the little sign of pride over tricking her into all this -- she decides that maybe he should receive it from her. 

She wraps her arms around his neck without warning and pushes them both down to the floor. And then she straddles him, enjoying how he yearns to be inside her. Not yet though. 

Her hands travel down his chest, and she tears his shirt apart, buttons flying in all directions as she leans down to look at his tattoo. 

_Lust_.

It’s close to his hipbone –- a place that no sinner he tries to convert sees.

Fucking figures.

John sits up and removes the shirt, grabbing on her own as soon as he’s done. His hands are all over her body in an instant and she moans as he licks her boob up to the nipple. He closes his mouth around it and sucks hard, her hips buckling.

She pushes him back hard and when his back hits the floor, she finally slides on his dick, enjoying his surprised gasp. 

It's not a pretty picture that he's _surely_ imagined repeatedly. She’s fucking him just as hard as he fucked her -- her body moving frantically as she takes him all in only to have him slide out when he gets too eager. 

John grabs her hips in an attempt to regain control and starts to thrust into her, his face covered in a thin layer of sweat.

_He will never learn._

She grabs his throat, pushing his head into the floor, and before she can do anything else, his hand closes on her own. She moans involuntarily as the air starts to escape her lungs.

Rook doesn’t know who’s giving and who’s taking now, but she knows that the pleasure that's building in the pit of her stomach, is almost too big to handle. 

She tightens her grip and so does John, both of them struggling to keep their eyes open. She leans into him, supporting herself with her free hand, and she can hear his ragged attempts at breathing. She licks his lips and his eyes roll to the back of his head. The grasp on her throat loosens up.

 _She won_.

She takes a deep breath and as the oxygen starts to circulate her blood again, her orgasm hits her, and she only manages to let out a raspy _fuck_ before freeing John’s throat. He manages to give her two more thrusts before finishing himself.

And when John lies there with his eyes closed, blissed from his orgasm, Rook’s mind is finally fucking clear.

She elbows him in the side of the head and he’s out cold.

She stands up on wobbly legs, looking around for her clothes. She quickly puts on her pants and shirt and then searches John’s trousers. Gun in the back pocket -- h _ow convenient_. She looks at him one last time before leaving and then she's out the door, wondering how has it ever come to this. 

**Author's Note:**

> I mean, John clearly has a choking kink. Right?


End file.
